


a glorious triptych

by strikethesun



Category: The Favourite (2018)
Genre: 18th Century, Alternate History, F/F, Fix-It, Happy Ending, Surrogacy, Yuletide 2019, female scheming, invented prince of wales, wacky royals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-18
Updated: 2019-12-18
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:47:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21842422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strikethesun/pseuds/strikethesun
Summary: inventing members of the royal family can be fun for all involved! including, and especially, for the writer
Relationships: Abigail Hill Masham/Anne Stuart Queen of the United Kingdom, Sarah Churchill Duchess of Marlborough/Anne Stuart Queen of the United Kingdom
Comments: 7
Kudos: 38
Collections: Yuletide 2019





	a glorious triptych

**Author's Note:**

  * For [harborshore](https://archiveofourown.org/users/harborshore/gifts).



> sorry to my recipient if this is a little too brief-- in case you couldn't tell by the posting date, i had a pretty busy december-- i would love to write more on this concept if you'd like, though! this idea honestly fascinates me (a world without hanovers!) and i'm really glad i got to write it for my first yuletide!

abigail spent a lot of time these days wandering about the palace, precisely because she could. the wandering became increasingly difficult as her pregnancy grew on her— _in_ her, she quickly corrected— but few things had managed to impede her progress in the past, so why should this? it was her beloved cousin who had taught her a fine few things about the true meaning of _patriotism_ over the course of the past couple years, but abigail now realized that she hadn’t truly understood the concept at all before now, as she found herself panting against a wall after taking the stairs too forcefully.

of course, it wasn’t that abigail’s body had never become a vessel for other purposes before. it was simply that this time, the sensation carried with it the glory and promise of a colonel preparing for a valiant battle, rather than the ancient and muffled horror of a young girl being pinned to a bed. 

when sarah had pitched the idea to her in a rare moment of confidentiality— of course anne hadn’t thought of it, had found the idea a little nauseating instead, before the cousins had carefully arranged all their words to make it seem like the most natural next step in the world— abigail truthfully believed it could never work. however, sarah had always had the finest way with the english language, and once she pulled her gently by the ear and explained that far stranger things had happened in the history of the crown, and would doubtless happen in the centuries to come, abigail had assented unexpectedly quickly.

it was during moments like the ones she found herself in now, and more and more all the time, that she wondered why this sort of violation of her basic autonomy seemed so much more meaningful than anything she had ever done before. looking out across the empty courtyard, she decided it was because there was only a single moment of male intervention required, and it had actually been almost enjoyable, for once. 

the fact that the queen was involved certainly helped, though.

~ ante ~

“you have to promise me you won’t go shooting together anymore.”

anne sat before the cousins as regally as she could muster, and tried not to look at sarah’s gauzy eye-scarf. she nearly locked into abigail’s bright gaze before turning her attention instead to one of the rabbits across the room, which was fortuitously located directly between the women.

“anne, i’m not going to _shoot_ her. and she wouldn’t dare shoot me. you should know both of us well enough by this point to know that we much prefer to sneak.”

“you’ve already said enough, sarah. no shooting. together, that is. anywhere near each other.” anne swallowed, and spoke a little louder, a little deeper, a little calmer. “you’re both incredibly lucky i even agreed to keep you both on, after everything you’ve made me endure.”

“i’m not the one who threatened to tell the country her majesty enjoys—” abigail ventured, before being silenced by a simultaneous stare from said majesty and a gentle, yet forceful slap on the shoulder from sarah.

“i thought we were all going to let bygones be bygones, my dear cousin. we…” sarah began, uncharacteristically lost for words. “...are both well aware now of how far we have to fall, and what sorts of things we could hit our heads on along the way.” 

abigail could have sworn she heard a smile in those last words, but didn’t dare look to her left. instead, she kept her eyes on her beloved queen, and tried to imagine what the future could look like when it had to be shared between the three.

~ post ~

anne had gone seven years without a known pregnancy before the impossible had happened, but who would dare doubt its possibility when they saw how much younger she appeared, how the healthy glow had returned to her face after so long, how her seemingly-hopeless state of health had risen above all the many challenges put before it?

and certainly, it didn’t take very long for the alleged prince’s face to become recognizably abigail’s, with a touch of baron masham thrown in, but when naysayers and doubters saw the way the queen instantly assumed a more royal air when the boy walked in, it became physically difficult to utter a word of contempt in the direction of the monarch, her beloved son, or either of their fiercest and constant companions, sarah and abigail.

abigail, of course, revelled in the feeling she got at seeing men bow before her offspring, and spent many an afternoon in some secluded corner giggling to herself at how easy it had been to pass samuel masham’s boy off as a new and miraculous prince of wales, but she could smell the desperation for a protestant heir no matter how far she rode away from the palace. in the same vein, she realized, the relationship between her, her cousin, and her monarch was almost certainly blatantly obvious to most of the political elite, but such scandals no longer mattered when they had played their cards so elegantly, and sated so many raging male hungers for power and influence through careful use of the bait that took the form of titles and military command and a promise of security. 

when abigail looked at her prince— well and truly _hers_ by every definition of the word, for her lack of tenderness still outshined sarah’s uncanny ability to frighten off children, often including her own, and therefore the boy mainly divided his affections between anne, whom he had been told was his mother for his entire life, and abigail, whom he regarded as the next best thing, she couldn’t help but feel a sort of melting inside, and while she genuinely dreaded the day in which a passing of the crown was necessary, she delighted in the assurance that not only would her position remain esteemed, but a boy she had come to feel actual affection for would be her new sovereign.

also, she had to admit, she was incredibly glad that her own glorious revolution had been so peaceful, for she knew herself to be the kind of woman who would have grabbed all she had by force regardless, but while she would have readily cast aside her dear sarah, she would not have been happy in doing so.


End file.
